


A Feeling I've Never Felt

by suchanoldcliche



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Abusive Relationship, School Dance, Teenlock, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1252252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanoldcliche/pseuds/suchanoldcliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor would kill me if he knew I wanted to ask Sherlock to the dance. I mean he would actually come after me and try to beat me to a bloody pulp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Feeling I've Never Felt

**Author's Note:**

> Despite having all kinds of heavy duty pain meds making my head all "wooo~", I decided to try to write something fluffy. Apologies if it's awful. I like it, so... I hope you do too.
> 
> Inspired in part by the song "All About Us (feat. Owl City)" by He Is We.

We've been mates for years. I mean, we met when I entered high school. I was, what, thirteen? Fourteen? Obviously he was older than me, but only by a year, so it wasn't weird that we were friends. Or, well. That wasn't the reason it was weird, anyway. (I learned early on that Sherlock Holmes doesn't exactly have "friends." He has his boyfriend, that sleazy Victor guy who's like the most popular guy in school, but for all the wrong reasons. That's it, though. No one else considers him a friend.)

Anyway. Like I said, we've been mates for years. _Best_ friends, if I'm being perfectly honest. I could tell him anything and, every night after he had the same fight with Victor that he's had for the last few months, he'd come over and do the same with me. He felt trapped, but he didn't know how to get out of it. Didn't think he _could_ , really. Victor somehow managed to get it into his head that no one else could ever want him, and that made Sherlock afraid to leave.

Which between you and me is absolute rubbish. But, um. That's beside the point.

Actually, no. No, that's my point exactly. Victor is wrong, because there's someone out there who _does_ want him. Very much, in fact. So much that he's considering asking him to the dance this Friday even though he knows he's technically taken already. And hates dances.

...I know this sounds completely ridiculous and yeah I've been denying for years that there's something there but I think, maybe, I might have a slight crush on my best friend. I mean, probably not, but...

Oh God. Did I just admit that? Well, I guess it could be worse. I could have admitted I'm in love with him. Then I'd be in big trouble.

...Oh, sod it. Victor would _kill_ me if he knew I wanted to ask Sherlock to the dance. I mean he would _actually_ come after me and try to beat me to a bloody pulp. But, see, unlike Sherlock, I'm not afraid of him.

At least, I'm not right now. But that could be because I feel brave. Possibly more brave than is safe for me. It's this sudden wave of courage that leads me to walk the blocks between my flat and Sherlock's, because really, this time of night? He's gotta be awake. Probably the only one awake, too. I get there in record time and stand outside, staring up at his window for a few minutes before taking my phone out and calling him.

It rings twice before I hear his voice.

"Ahoy," he says, making me smile like a blasted fool. "Why are you still awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," I reply. Not a lie. "You busy?"

"Not really. Mycroft came over for dinner tonight and didn't leave. He's sleeping in his room down the hall and I can hear him snoring. It's ridiculous how loud he can get."

I can't help but laugh at that. Mycroft? Snoring? "Why's he there?" I ask, stalling as I try to think of how to address the real reason why I called.

"Mummy wanted him to visit. She's been pestering for weeks and I guess he finally conceded. I don't mind so much. It's... odd having him home, though."

"I can imagine."

There's a pause, and then I hear Sherlock lay down on his bed. "But that's not why you called," he says after a moment, and I can hear the curiosity in his voice. He doesn't ask, though, just waits for me to explain.

Which I do. Kind of. "Look outside."

"Outside? At this time of night?" I hear him shift again. "What could I possibly--" And then dark curls are visible in the window, followed by the familiar face that makes my stomach flutter a bit. I can see his smile from here. "What, _John_. Why are you standing outside my flat this late at night?"

"I told you. I couldn't sleep."

"Liar," he says, disappearing from the window. I wonder if that means he's coming downstairs. Probably. "Are _you_ okay?"

"What? Yeah, why?"

"You don't call this late. And you _certainly_ don't just show up. What is it?"

I'm about to answer when the door opens. There, standing in the threshold, is my best friend. He's wearing his favorite blue robe over his pirate pyjamas. I can't help but smile as I walk over to him, hanging my phone up as he does the same. "Can't I just visit my friend?"

"No," he says simply. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

"No, I just..." I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. This might be harder than I thought. "...Are you and Trevor going to the dance on Friday?"

"You came all this way to ask me _that_?"

"Well. Kind of?"

"Spit it out, John."

I sigh again. He really isn't making this easy. "Um... Well, I just. I wanted to know if, maybe, you uh. Might want to go?"

"With Victor?"

"Uh. No. No, I meant..." I swallow, looking down at my feet. God, this is it, isn't it? "...With me? Like a... like a date?"

Sherlock's face seems to freeze, which makes me nervous. _Very_ nervous. I shouldn't have asked, I know it. I mean, what kind of friend asks another who is _dating someone_ to go out with them? It's _wrong_ , I know that.

After what feels like forever, Sherlock finally answers, though it isn't what I expected to hear. "You aren't gay."

Ah. Right. "No, I'm not."

"So, why...?"

Oh God. It's all coming out now, isn't it? I look down at my feet and rock on my heels, feeling more than slightly awkward. Should I tell him the truth? "Because... I uh." I shrug, then look up at him. "I like you. I guess."

Sherlock, again, seems to freeze. It's like he needs time to process what I'm telling him and he sort of shuts down every time I say something. Soon enough, he blinks, then starts to smile. "You _guess_?"

I shrug again. "Yeah. Why?"

"You've liked me for a few months now, that's all. I wondered when you'd say something."

...Come again? "Sorry?"

Sherlock's smile grows. "You heard me. I've known for months."

Oh, for the love of... I can feel myself blushing now. "So, _will_ you?"

"That depends. Do you know how to dance?"

I open my mouth to answer, then realise that, no. No, I don't know how. I smile sheepishly, to which Sherlock laughs.

"We've got time," he says, smiling at me. "I'll teach you."

I blink. Does that mean he's...? "Wait. Are you...?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"What about Victor?"

Sherlock shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'll break up with him tomorrow. Was planning on doing it anyway, after the talk I had with Mycroft tonight, but you've just given me more of a reason to."

I can't help myself. I smile brilliantly. "So, you'll go with me?"

"Of course, John."

My heart swells three sizes too big. Sherlock said yes. _He said yes_. I just smile at him like an idiot for a while before rushing forward and hugging him. "Good. That's..." I pull away, my smile widening. "That's good."

"So _that's_ why you came over?"

I nod. "Yes."

"Well. While you're here, we should probably practice for Friday."

"Now?"

"Why not? You'll need all the practice you can get."

I just stare at him for a moment before I laugh. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sherlock."

"What?" He makes a face. "No, I'm not confident in your abilities at _all_. That's why you need the practice."

I roll my eyes. "You're lucky you're cute."

That confuses him even more, but he doesn't argue this time, simply shakes his head and goes inside, leaving the door open for me to follow. I'm just about to walk in when my pocket vibrates. Looking down, I reach into it and pull my mobile out, finding a text message waiting for me.

_"It's about time. -MH"_

I can't help but laugh at that. At least I know I have the family's approval.


End file.
